


When you were here before

by SlyKing



Series: Inktober 2020 [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Fire, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Inktober, Insecure Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Nightmares, Wings, Wisp - Freeform, inktober2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:21:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26779528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlyKing/pseuds/SlyKing
Summary: Here, Crowley was no longer safe. He was no longer safe anywhere. And he was alone. Alone in this world.Aziraphale! I can't find you! Where are you?
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Inktober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951387
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	When you were here before

**Author's Note:**

> I know that inktober is mainly for drawings but I wanted to participate and, having no particular talent for drawing... ;)

In the middle of this beloved place, Crowley watched helplessly the fire devoured wood, shelves, tapestry, and books. The flames grew against the wall, rising to the upper floor. The beams were squeaking dangerously. There was nothing left of Aziraphale, except the memory of his presence here. Here, it was cold now despite the heat of the continuous blaze. Here, Crowley was no longer safe. He was no longer safe anywhere. And he was alone. Alone in this world. _Aziraphale! I can't find you! Where are you?_ The wisp seemed to mock him while dancing around him. He was choking to death. Yet he never needed to breathe as humans did but his body was suffocating.

“Aziraphale!” he exclaimed in a burst of vigor. The bookstore collapsed on him, and Crowley awoke.

He took a deep breath, entangled in his blankets and passed a hand on his face, heart beating. A long breath crossed his lips and he straightened up to look for his phone by feeling. The same dream beset him every night, preventing him from sleeping, he who loved to rest so much. He would have liked to be able to get rid of it, to chase away these nightmarish images. Aziraphale, after all, was fine. He didn’t abandon him, he came back. He was not missing. The bookshop was standing again, like new. They had prevented the End Times. They were on their own side, now. And yet… Crowley pressed Aziraphale’s contact. He knew the angel wasn't sleeping. He _needed_ to hear him. No. Needed to _see_ him. It was stupid.  
He pressed the call button.

“A.Z Fell & Co, the shop is currently closed-”  
“It’s me, you idiot.” Crowley grumbled with a slight smile. Aziraphale would never learn that humans did not call a bookstore at three o'clock in the morning.  
“Oh. Hello, Crowley!” was he really happy to hear him, or was it Crowley’s imagination?  
“Yeah, hi. Uh… I was wondering…If…If you wanted to- to have a drink?”  
There was a long silence. Crowley hastily added:  
“I mean, there’s no obligation. Whatever. I’m going to-”  
“No, no! Your question just caught me off guard... I always enjoy drinking with you. You can come if you want, my doors are always open to you, my dear.”

A curious relief struck Crowley’s stomach, whose throat tightened. He closed his eyes and hung up before taking the keys of his car. Within minutes, he was in front of Aziraphale’s shop. It was fall. It rained finely. A faint light escaped from the windows, releasing in the dark street an almost comforting halo. Crowley placed his hand on the doorknob but stopped. He knew that the bookshop was always open to him, Aziraphale had made sure of that. But tonight, he didn’t dare cross the threshold. He was frozen. In front of his eyes, however wide open, he saw the flames, the smoke. He smelled the smell of burning. How long did he stay like this? Apparently enough for Aziraphale to appear before him, anxious to feel the demon motionless in front of the building.

“Crowley ?” the demon blinked. Aziraphale was standing in front of him with his eyebrows furrowed.  
“Aziraphale.” Crowley muttered.  
“Everything is fine, my dear? I have been feeling your presence for at least ten minutes. Would I have… Would I have accidentally locked the door?”  
“Uh? Ah, no, no. I was just thinking. How are you?”

Crowley tried to take a step forward, but his body refused to move. A feeling of panic then creeped into him. _Shit._ What happened to him? He felt his breathing become irregular, almost erratic. _Shit._ He was completely losing control in front of Aziraphale! Aziraphale put a hand on his arm, suddenly looking very serious and worried.

“I’m fine, which doesn’t sound like you are. Did something happen? Come on in.”

Crowley allowed himself to be guided by the hand of Aziraphale closed on his own. When he walked through the doors of the bookshop, he felt like he was reliving the same scene over and over again. This place had always been a haven of peace and security, a place where he was not afraid to be pursued, a place where he did not look over his shoulder with anxiety. Where he could be himself. And it all went up in smoke. He felt more than he saw Aziraphale’s arms closing around his shoulders to support him. His legs had become too weak to carry him.

“Crowley…” whispered Aziraphale, more and more worried.

Crowley blinked, trying to regain countenance so as not to worry the angel, so as not to be overwhelmed by the absurd feelings that beset him. He closed his eyes and let himself fall against his angel. He laid his head gently on his neck and remained thus for long minutes, surrounded by his fragrance and his benevolent aura.  
He was vaguely aware of the change in space. He hardly felt that he was being placed on the couch in the back room. He was always against Aziraphale, intoxicated by his presence. He was afraid that this certainty, (the presence of his angel), would dissipate and leave him alone again. He thought he perceived a rustle, then a sudden calming took hold of him. Against his cheek some feathers tickled his skin. In his hair, caressing fingers were passed.

With regret, Crowley finally opened his eyes. Aziraphale had spread his wings, they were both surrounded by them. This statement broke the last barriers of Crowley who clung firmly to Aziraphale. His voice was only a murmur :

“Let’s go off together, angel. Far from here.”  
“Go off together ?” Crowley tended slightly, anticipating a refusal. But Aziraphale kept a soft voice when he added: “Well, I think this is a very good idea. I don’t plan to go anywhere without you, anyway. And I would be offended if you left without offering to follow you.”

Crowley smiled slightly, a fine line on his lips. He rested his head against Aziraphale and gave a sigh. The flames and smoke finally seemed to leave him alone. They were on their own side, and it had never seemed so real.

_When you were here before  
Couldn't look you into the eye  
You’re just like an angel  
Your skin makes me cry  
You float like a feather  
In a beautiful world  
I wish I was special  
You’re so fucking special_ \- Creep, Radiohead


End file.
